


Unwrapped

by Juli



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Schmoop, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juli/pseuds/Juli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony tends to go a little overboard at Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwrapped

"Tony, you are unbelievable." Steve watched as the other Avengers spread out in the tower's parking garage, each headed towards a different vehicle. 

"I'm assuming that's the good kind of `unbelievable,' like last night when I sucked your brains out through your dick." Tony turned his face briefly, just long enough to witness the blush that his words caused to rise to Steve's face. After that he smirked and turned his attention back to the other Avengers.

Steve counted to ten and then, for good measure, counted another ten. He loved Tony dearly, but the man could still ruffle Steve's feathers like no one else. Good thing for both of them that Steve actually liked a little bit of ruffling.

"Only you would consider a car an appropriate gift for a co-worker." Steve ignored the question about what kind of unbelievable Tony was. Sometimes that was the best tactic to use with Tony.

"First of all, the Avengers aren't exactly co-workers, we're more like family." Tony corrected him. "Seems to me that a guy who looks a lot like you pointed that out to me." Steve couldn't argue; he had referred to the Avengers as family a number of times. "I've never had an abundance of family, but I do have an abundance of money, so I'm making up for lost time."

By this time, Clint had reached the SUV that was identified as his, both by a huge purple bow on the roof and, for good measure, a sign that read `Bird Brain.' The normally quiet archer let out a whoop of pleasure that echoed through the parking garage. Tony watched with obvious satisfaction, raising one hand in a sloppy salute as Clint looked over at him and mouthed `thank you.'

"Second of all," Tony resumed his conversation with Steve like it had never been interrupted. "I've got more money than most developed nations. I can afford to spread it around a little."

Steve sighed. He knew that Tony'd had a far from ideal childhood. From what Steve could tell, growing up with too much money and not enough love was even worse than being raised poor, but with a caring family. Despite Steve's attempts, Tony still tended to equate money with love and tried to lavish gifts on people he liked, as though he felt he needed to buy their affection. 

"Christmas isn't all about the gifts," Steve used a gentle voice. "Clint, Natasha, Thor and Bruce would care about you even if you didn't buy them a car."

"I know that." It was Tony's turn to blush. "They show the same lack of judgment with choosing friends as they do for their lives when they throw themselves into saving the world over and over again." He paused and his characteristic smirk was firmly back in place. "Besides, the car isn't really the gift."

Steve felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. "It's not?"

"No," Tony waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "The car is more like the gift wrapping."

Having grown up dirt poor, Steve was far less cavalier about money than his lover. "The car is what?"

"The wrapping." Tony repeated. His face had that expression that meant he was highly amused with Steve's reaction. "You know, what the gift comes in. The delivery method, as it were, for the real present."

"You gave each team member a car," Steve repeated, slowly, in order to make sure he understood, "just to have something to put their real present inside of?"

Tony rocked back on his heels, waves of satisfaction all but visibly radiating from him. "Yup."

Steve laughed softly, torn between disbelief and admiration. "Unbelievable."

"Just think of all the wrapping paper and ribbon I'm saving, not to mention tape," Tony's expression of noble sacrifice was marred by the decidedly devilish twinkle in his eye. "I'm all about helping the environment."

Two could play at that game. "Is that why you bought Bruce a Prius, because you care for the environment?" It was hard to keep from smiling, but Steve managed. Tony might have a vested interest in clean energy, but he loved his muscle cars.

Tony immediately pouted. "It was painful to put in the purchase order for that piece of . . . . compost." He sighed as though suffering. "Sometimes I think Bruce takes being green too far."

And yet Tony had indulged his friend, instead of giving him a car that was up to the Stark high standards. Steve felt his exasperation at the extravagant gifts melt away; Tony obviously cared enough to put a lot of thought into the gifts and wasn't just throwing money at his friends. Now that he'd realized that, Steve found himself intrigued.

"So what is Bruce's `real' present?" He asked.

"A zen fountain thing that he can use to help him meditate." Tony promptly replied, still looking a little put out. "I was going to buy him his own island, just a little one, but Pepper said no. She said I'd just embarrass Bruce."

Steve said a silent prayer in thanksgiving for Pepper's continued good influence in Tony's life. When the two had broken up, the rest of the Avengers had worried about Tony's emotional state, but it turned out to be a mutual decision. Pepper had soon started a relationship with Phil and Tony, much to Steve's surprise and delight, had started wooing him.

"I think Pepper was right." Steve wasn't hurt that Tony hadn't come to him for present-buying advice. Despite Tony's best efforts, Steve was still woefully behind the times and heaven forbid that Tony Stark give a less-than-cutting-edge present. "Bruce isn't exactly the private island type." He nodded to the Prius that Bruce was currently circling, a look of wonder on his face. "The color was a nice choice.  
"  
The Prius was, of course, green.

"Had it specially painted." Tony admitted. "It came in a green, but it wasn't quite the right shade."

"And Clint's real `gift?'" Steve asked.

"You know that Clint grew up in the circus, right? There's this group that helps out aging circus animals; gives them a nice place to live when they're too old to travel. Sort of like a retirement home; I sponsored a lion in Clint's name." Tony looked away and Steve figured that the other man was embarrassed at being caught out as a softy, not only to Clint but to elderly lions and the like. "There's a certificate to prove it, which, of course, I had exquisitely framed."

"Of course." Steve looked next at the SUV that Thor was already sitting in. It was painted the exact green-gray hue that clouds took on before a bad storm. "I didn't know they made SUVs that big."

Tony grimaced. "I wanted to get him a Hummer but they don't make them anymore and it would be tacky to give him something used."

Steve didn't know what to say to that and so, wisely, didn't comment. "And what's Thor's `real' present?"

A loud cheer was heard from Thor's SUV, indicating that whatever the gift was, it had been found and was appreciated with Thor's typical enthusiasm.

For the first time in the conversation, Tony looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well, about that. . . ."

"Tony, what did you do?" Steve was quick to question his lover. In his experience, if Tony was nervous, then the people around him should be panicked.

"Nothing!" Tony protested. When Steve just continued to look steadily at him, he caved. "I might have convinced the people who make Pop-Tarts to do a special run of mead-flavored ones." 

By the time he'd finished speaking, Tony looked unusually sheepish, an expression that Steve found adorable, even as he was appalled at the pastry Tony had just described. Still, it was a thoughtful gift, even if the idea of it would be unpalatable to anyone but Thor.

"I just hope you beefed up the ventilation in the kitchen." Steve said mildly, nose wrinkling at the idea of what a mead-flavored Pop-Tart might smell like after heated up in the toaster.

Tony's eyes widened. "Good idea." He immediately pulled out his phone and made a quick call to JARVIS.

While Tony was occupied, Steve looked around for the female member of the team. While Clint, Bruce and Thor were still ogling their gift `wrapping,' Natasha was nowhere to be seen.

"You gave me a car."

Until, that was, she popped up right in Tony's face. Tony startled badly enough that he almost dropped the phone, but quickly recovered. After waggling a finger in Natasha's face, Tony finished giving JARVIS his instructions and snapped the phone shut.

"I didn't give you any old car, I gave you a convertible." Tony pointed out.

Natasha's expression didn't change, but for some reason Steve found himself sidling closer to Tony. He didn't think that Natasha would actually lash out at his lover, but better safe than sorry.

"You gave me a pink convertible." Natasha stated flatly.

And it was, indeed, pink. Not only pink, but a shade a pink that Steve was pretty sure didn't exist in nature.

"I have one word for you: Malibu Barbie." Tony retorted. "Okay, that's two words, but the sentiment is the same. Totally cool."

Natasha didn't roll her eyes, but her disgust was obvious to someone who knew her well. "I'm a spy, Stark, a pink car isn't exactly inconspicuous."

Tony grinned widely. "And that, my dear Widow, is entirely the point."  
Natasha looked at Steve, but he simply shrugged. Sometimes he didn't get Tony's odd twists of logic either.

"A pink car is entirely too attention-getting to use for spy work." Tony's voice softened as he realized that Natasha hadn't understood him. "SHIELD can't ask you to use it in the field. It's entirely yours." He reached out as though to pat her on the arm, but pulled back. "You get to decide how it's used and, more importantly, how it's not used."

Although Steve wasn't privy to all of Natasha's background, he knew enough to realize how much guilt she carried over past actions. Tony hadn't just given her a new mode of transportation; he'd done it in such a way that SHIELD couldn't expect her to use it when she worked for them. It was something in her life, maybe one of only a few things, that couldn't be pulled into the moral quagmire of being a spy.

From the way Natasha's eyes widened, she'd come to understand what Tony was saying too. She kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you."

Without a backward glance at either one of them, Natasha walked back to her pink car. Both men watched her go.

"Was that her `real' present?" Steve asked. "That it was pink?"

Tony shook his head. "No, I got her a doll too." 

Steve looked at him, aghast. "You're kidding."

"Nope." Tony's expression was full of sadness. "She never had one before." His shrug was nonchalant, but Steve wasn't fooled for a minute. "I figured it was better late than never."

Steve stared at his lover; every time he thought he had Tony figured out, he found another layer to the man. He reached out an arm and drew Tony close for a deep kiss.

"You are unbelievable." All hints of exasperation were gone from Steve's voice and all that was left was admiration.

Tony started to say something, but was cut off by the sound of four engines starting. The other Avengers had decided to take their new cars out for a spin. Steve stood behind Tony, arms wrapped around the smaller man, as their teammates circled them with their vehicles, horns honking loudly. The noise was deafening, but thankfully they only circled twice before heading out of the parking garage.

When Steve and Tony were alone, Tony looked up at him. "Aren't you going to look at yours?"

Steve immediately felt guilty. He'd been so wrapped up in watching the others' reactions to Tony's gifts that he hadn't even realized that there was a vehicle for him. Steve was officially an idiot, because of course there was car for him, Tony wouldn't pass up a chance to spend money on his lover.

"But you already gave me the bike," Steve sputtered as Tony took him by the hand and tugged him towards the remaining vehicle.

"That was months ago, before we even hooked up," Tony argued. "And, in case you haven't noticed, a motorcycle isn't always the most practical mode of transportation for New York. Not during the winter anyway. This little baby'll do you just fine."

The little `baby' was a Jeep and Steve didn't have a clue as to why Tony thought that he would need an off-road vehicle in a big city like New York. As he approached the sleek vehicle, though, and the lines of it reminded him of the Jeeps he'd used in World War II, Steve figured that need didn't have much to do with it. The Jeep felt like a small piece of home.

If the lines of the Jeep seemed familiar, the color of it certainly did not. Gone was the olive drab that Steve remembered from the Army. This Jeep was blue, not bright enough to be a royal blue, nor deep enough to be navy. The artist in Steve wanted to put a name to it, but the closest he could come was the Cadet Blue used by the military. 

The Jeep wasn't just blue, though. There was a design that sprawled across the hood and spilled down the sides. The design was a stylized eagle and it was holding a very familiar shield. Steve immediately recognized it.

"I drew this." Steve's voice and touch were soft as he trailed one finger along the hood of the Jeep. "Before the ice, I drew this."

"I know." Tony rocked back on his heels, satisfaction oozing out of every pore. "I gave you back most of the stuff that Dad had collected that was yours, but another sketchbook turned up right about the time I was ordering the Jeep. Seemed like a good idea at the time." His expression dropped at seeing Steve's understated reaction. "But if it's not – good idea, I mean - no big deal. The design can be painted over."

"Don't you dare." 

Steve's response was visceral and, by the look on Tony's face, he knew he'd surprised his lover as much as himself. Steve drew because he loved to, not to show off his talent. He rarely shared his artwork with anyone, but somehow having the eagle on the Jeep felt right. Maybe because no one but him and Tony would know who'd drawn it. More important, though, was what it signified.

"Well, alrighty then." Tony gave Steve a wary glance, but didn't demand an explanation. Steve felt compelled to give him one anyway.

"You went to all this trouble, for me." Steve struggled for words. "Having people see that is important."

"If you're sure. . . ." Tony seemed to be having second thoughts of using Steve's own artwork on the car. 

Steve knew of only one way to truly reassure the other man. He stepped closer to Tony and cupped the back of his head with one hand. He pulled Tony in for a thorough kiss, all but stealing the breath right out of the older man. When he pulled back, Steve was happy to see that Tony's eyes were a little dazed. "I'm sure."

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, the smile back on his face. "I guess you are. Sure, that is." Then, like a little kid who couldn't wait any longer, he impatiently gestured towards the Jeep. "Get in. This stunning vehicle is only the gift wrap, you know.  
"  
"Tony. " Steve's voice was dangerously close to a whine, but couldn't stop himself. "The Jeep was enough – more than enough. Not to mention the paint job. . . ."

"Na-nah." Tony shook his head in mock chastisement. "Rich, remember? I get to spoil you a little. You notice that the others didn't have a problem with it."

Steve sighed and gave in. He figured that he probably didn't have a true understanding of just how much money Tony had. Besides, Steve's acceptance of his lover's spectacular present was, in a way, a gift to Tony. With that in mind, Steve opened the Jeep and got in, Tony immediately draped himself through the open window and over the door, half hanging inside the vehicle.

Once seated behind the wheel, Steve shifted until he was comfortable. Tony had done well; the Jeep was big enough to hold Steve's rather substantial form, but not so big that it felt like a tank. Looking at the controls, it seemed easy enough to operate too. The Jeep was even a stick shift, which was a relief. Steve could drive an automatic, but it never felt right.

"You like?" Tony couldn't hold back anymore.

"I love," Steve replied firmly. He leaned over to give Tony another kiss, this one a little more chaste than before.

Tony broke off the kiss with a chuckle. "I like your enthusiasm, babe, but we still haven't gotten to your real gift."

Steve eyed Tony up and down slowly with a half-lidded gaze that he hoped conveyed the heat of his feelings. "I've got you, what else do I need?"

He could tell that the message was conveyed when Tony flushed and pulled at the collar of his shirt. In honor of their Christmas Eve celebration, he'd worn a suit and was obviously feeling a little uncomfortable at the moment. Maybe Steve deserved to be on Santa's naughty list, because he found that idea most pleasing.

"Be that as it may," Tony returned Steve's look with a heated one of his own. "My specialty is figuring out what people need before they know they need it." He grinned. "Babbette, my saucy little wench, introduce yourself."

"Bonjour, Capitaine Rogers."

Steve was too well versed with JARVIS and voices coming out of nowhere to be startled, but he was mildly surprised that the voice was female and had a soft French accent.

"Hello, ma'am." Steve replied automatically. He turned to Tony. "She related to JARVIS?"

"Yup." Tony reached through the window in order to stroke the dashboard, as though it was alive. "JARVIS is great and all, but he's programmed to best interact with my personality. Babbette here is programmed for you."

Steve lifted one eyebrow. "Is that right?"

"ui, Capitaine Rogers." It was Babbette that answered. "I am also programmed with a variety of popular culture references and maps that compare today's infrastructure with that of the 1930s and 40s."

"Thank you, ma'am, that'll be helpful." Steve grinned at Tony. "French, huh?"

Tony shrugged with nonchalance, but his eyes twinkled merrily. "You're an artist and all. Figured it suited you. Besides, JARVIS needs a little friend and he's a bit of a snob, so. . . ."

Steve didn't buy a word of it. "You just wanted to hear me say ma'am all the time."

"That had nothing to do with it," Tony denied loftily. "And neither did the visualization of a hot young thing in a French maid's outfit."

He couldn't resist. Steve waited a beat and then responded, "Don't be an idiot, Tony, those ruffled skirts make my hips look big."

Tony's face was completely blank for a moment and then he grinned from ear to ear. "And here Barton says you don't have a sense of humor."

Steve snorted. "My idea of a sense of humor and Clint's idea of one are vastly different."

"So, do you like your present?" Tony asked. It was hard to tell if he was referring to the Jeep or to the AI.

Steve, when he answered, wasn't referring to either of them.

"I love my present, my real present." Steve grabbed Tony by the tie and started pulling.

Tony gave a squawk of surprise and flailed a little, but didn't really try to stop Steve from pulling him into the Jeep. It was a good thing that Steve was a quick study, because he had no trouble scooting the seat back so that he could accommodate Tony on his lap.

"You must have been a bad boy, if you think I'm your present." Tony quipped. "You really should have a talk with Santa."

Steve kissed him, putting one hand on either of Tony's hips in an attempt to keep the other man from squirming. When he finally released Tony's mouth, Steve was pleased to see that the pupils of Tony's eyes were dilated wide. "The only communication I'm gonna have with Santa is send him a thank you letter."

"Babbette?" Tony's voice was higher than its normal pitch. "Disarm all the security cameras in proximity to the Jeep."

Chuckling at Tony's eagerness, Steve barely registered Babbette's reply. He was too busy figuring out if the Jeep's seats leaned all the way back. When he found out that they did, Steve let out a crow of delight and pulled Tony down with him. His fingers immediately started working at Tony's tie.

Unwrapping a present, after all, was half the fun.

~the end~


End file.
